The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter eBook

The landlord had paced his halls in great tribulation
for some time, for he saw he had been grievously taken
in, and that the damage to the reputation of his house
would be four fold what he would get of the city for
all his trouble. Seeing, then, his house in a
state of confusion, and having fears for the good
name of his patron saint, he rushed into the room,
crying, “Gentlemen! gentlemen! pray leave my
house, for though I see you are guardians of the city,
you seem to have as little respect for the reputation
of my house, which is my bread, as you have for the
good order of the city. Pray get away from here,
and what you have had shall be given for charity’s
sake.” Seeing they were not inclined to
respect his admonition, he called a posse of policemen,
and ordered them to clear his house of the miscreants;
but they, seeing it was their own masters who were
deporting themselves in this disorderly manner, merely
shook their heads and walked away. In this dilemma,
for the landlord saw he could not get of the police
what he paid for, he called some two score of his
own servants, who, having no respect for high officials
who do not respect themselves, were not long in tumbling
them into the street; and would have had Major Roger
Sherman Potter following them, if he could have been
found!

CHAPTER XXIX.

The writer of this history, remembering how his
mother admonished him to be virtuous and prudent,
retired quietly to bed before the passions of the
high functionaries had caused so violent an outbreak.
And though his regard for the major’s reputation
was of the tenderest kind, he slept soundly, feeling
sure that there was nothing in the list of misfortunes
the major was incapable of overcoming. It was
with no little surprise, then, that I was awoke by
the landlord on the following morning, and told that
Major Roger Potter was no where to be found.
He regretted having such people in his house; but
said it would shorten the account of his misfortunes,
if he could but find the missing guest, for it was
his custom to treat all men with courtesy.

On repairing to the parlor, which we did as speedily
as possible, proof of what had taken place on the
previous night lay strewn all over the floor.
There, too, lay the major’s three cornered hat,
as if sitting in judgment upon a promiscuous heap
of bottles. But this was the only vestige of
the missing hero. At length a sort of murmuring
sound was heard, as of some one in great distress.
Seeing the landlord much perplexed, I listened with
anxious attention, and soon discovered the sound to
resemble very much that made by the major over the